Something Sweet
by waterlilylf
Summary: Two former Gundam Pilots deal with their first Easter Egg. A little Easter story full of sap and chocolate. 1x2


Disclaimer - they don't belong tom...

Note: this is just a little something sweet and sappy I wrote for Easter. It can be either read as a one-shot, or as part of the ALG story, set a few months after the war.

Chocolate-covered thanks to Kaeru Shisho for beta-ing and Happy Easter to everyone.

Heero's POV:

**Something Sweet:**

It's something of a role reversal for us, me being the one waiting for him to come through the Arrival Gates. So far, I've always been the one arriving back home.

I know that at any minute he's going to walk out, but part of me is screaming that the shuttle landed over thirty minutes ago, that he should be here by now, that something has to be wrong. I know - I _know _- how stupid this is. His shuttle landed safely, exactly on time, and I've already checked that he was on the passenger manifesto. They're not supposed to give out that sort of information, but a Preventers badge comes in very useful sometimes.

_Come on, Duo._

I wonder if he feels like this, when he's waiting for me.

I've been home without him for two days now and I hate it. I hated flying in on Friday without him being at the airport to meet me. I'd known, obviously, that he wouldn't be there when I walked out; he was halfway across the universe but I still couldn't stop myself scanning the crowd outside the departure gates. Just in case. Stupid.

I've been waiting here for two hours now; I thought it would be preferable to staying in an empty house, checking the time every five minutes and then tracking his shuttle's progress.

Without him, our house is unbearably empty; four damp walls and a roof that's missing a fair proportion of its tiles. Duo is planning to retile it one day but for now we have buckets under the worst of the leaks.

I spent most of yesterday cleaning. By the evening, I'd vowed never again to complain about Duo flooding the upper floor because his hair had clogged up the shower drain, or about him leaving food in the fridge for so long that it begins to sprout weird and wonderful fungal growths.

I just wanted him there. Laughing and talking and moving around, and sinking into our bed with me.

This morning, I even messed up a few of his car magazines on the coffee table; the ones I'd neatly organised the night before, just to make it seem like he was around. I miss the chaos. He is criminally untidy, trailing a cloud of belongings wherever he goes.

I was raised by Odin in the belief that possessions were a liability. Even during the war, Duo liked to squirrel away odd little things in his pockets; an oddly shaped stone or twig, a folded menu from a restaurant where we'd eaten, articles he'd cut out of a magazine.

Now, we have a whole house filled with his odd acquisitions. Motorcycle parts in the bathtub and the makings of a crude bomb in the oven. Fortunately, he can't cook or he'd blow himself sky high.

Of course, there are books everywhere in teetering piles. At lunchtime, I'd actually sat down and flicked through one of them; a nonsense story for children about a little girl and a rabbit's burrow. I couldn't understand why he liked it enough to keep by our bed.

When he does, finally, emerge, I almost miss him, caught up in a knot of children. He has a suitcase in one hand, his own bag slung over one shoulder and a toddler in his other hand. Two slightly older children are hanging on to him, and a harassed-looking woman is bringing up the rear, pushing a pram. As I watch an older grandmotherly-looking woman steps forward, and the children fling themselves on her while their mother gives Duo a hug, obviously thanking him for his help.

I want to do that to him, to fold him in my arms and press him against me, but he's never comfortable with that in public. He can kiss strangers and their children without a second thought, but not his lover.

Then he sees me, and his eyes simply light up; that look that's better than a fleeting physical contact. He smiles that way just for me.

He's so beautiful, my Duo. He still insists on wearing black, but the baggy clothes from the war have been replaced by jeans and a fitted t-shirt. The dark colour suits him actually, setting off his pale skin and that gleaming rope of hair. He is getting more than a few appreciative glances as he makes his way through the crowd, ignoring them. It always amazes me that he truly has no idea how eye-catching he is.

'Hey.'

'Hey yourself.' I try to put all the affection, all the caresses into my voice and his smile broadens.

'Did you miss me?'

'I always miss you.' I lead him down the escalator to where I've left the car. If there's no one around in the car park, maybe he'll let me kiss him. 'So how was L4?'

'Really cool! One of Quat's horses had a foal just before I got there. God, 'Ro, I've never seen anything so cute. I could have spent the whole week in the stable with that little thing. I don't think I've ever seen a baby animal before, and they let me pet her and brush her and everything.'

I laugh as we arrive at the car. 'I'm glad you didn't decide to stay there and become a stable boy.'

He grins at me, sliding his bag, that decrepit old duffle that he's had since I first knew him, into the back seat. 'Well, I did consider it, you know. Quat'd be a pretty good guy to work for, but there are a few perks to living here on Earth.'

'Am I a perk?' My Preventer-issue car has tinted windows; once I have the doors closed, we're pretty much invisible, even if someone walks straight past and Duo doesn't object when I haul him into my arms.

'Kisses are perks,' he informs me when we finally pull apart. 'You're a necessity.'

'How can you have the nerve to call me a sap when you say something like that?'

'Not sappy if it's true,' he mutters, flicking his braid and gazing out of the window. He's never entirely comfortable talking about his emotions, but I'm glowing at the thought that he considers me a necessity. Something he finds necessary.

I need him, of course, more than anything, but Duo is a consummate survivor, who's spent so much of his life taking care of himself. So far as I can remember, I've always had someone; Odin, Dr. J, then Quatre and Duo. I'm the one who needs structure, routine, mission parameters in this strange new world, while he seems happy to potter around our house and take on odd jobs here and there.

He spends the rest of the drive home describing an overnight jeep safari Quat had organised into the L4 desert. I put in the appropriate comments during his rare pauses to take a breath, but it's hard to concentrate. He's told me he loves me, but he's never said straight out that he needs me.

'It sounds perfect,' I say softly, pulling up outside our house.

'Yeah, I guess.' He shrugs, reaching behind for his bag. 'Would've been more perfect if you'd been with me.'

There it is; the one tiny reprimand that I wasn't there. We were both invited, of course, but Une had assigned me to attend the conference at the last minute. Duo had been utterly furious, incapable of seeing why I couldn't just refuse her. He'd flown out the day before me, still angry with me. I'd called him that night and we'd both apologised for the things we'd said, but I'm still not fully forgiven. I don't blame him.

'I'm sorry, Duo.' I can't think of anything else to say. 'I wish I had been there. It's just…'

'I know.' His smile is brittle, the smile he used to paste on when things were bad during the war. 'Preventers stuff comes first, right?'

There is nothing more important in my life than Duo. Nothing. I've never been able to articulate my feelings to him properly. Since the war ended, he's apparently flowed into our new life with perfect ease. He was the one to find us a house and organise everything while I was completing my orientation. Neither of us has ever had a home before, a place that's all our own, and Duo has given us that, while I've been able to hide behind a Preventers badge.

'Heero,' he says my name very gently, laying one hand on my knee. 'I'm sorry, baby. I don't want to make you feel bad. When you signed up for this Preventer thing, I said I'd support you and I did mean it, truly. I just didn't think we'd be apart so much now. I miss you, you know?'

It's hard to hear the last words but it doesn't matter because he's suddenly in my lap and we're wrapped around each other. I have no idea which of us made the first move, and that doesn't matter either.

'I miss you too.' My arms fasten around him; I love holding him like this so much. 'I'm sorry, my love. It's just…'

'Hush.' One finger reaches up and touches my mouth. 'It's OK. I know you need to do all this world-saving shit. It's just….kind of hard being the one who's stuck at home but it's OK. Once I know you're going to come back to me.'

'Always.' I promise fervently. 'I promised, remember? That you're always going to have me. And I'll never know what I did to deserve you in my life.'

Duo just snorts. 'Yeah, well, maybe you did something really bad in a previous life.'

'Don't talk like that! I must have done something amazingly wonderful.'

'Like saving the world?' I can hear the little smile in his voice as he snuggles closer, tucking his head under my chin. His hair smells delicious; lemons and sunshine and warmth. I could stay here like this for the rest of my life, but Duo shifts against me. 'Maybe we should go inside? We might need a little bit more space for what happens next.' One lingering kiss and he slides out of his seat. 'How was Dublin anyway? Did you have fun?'

_Fun…_only Duo would ask that question about an international conference on drug trafficking.

'It was … interesting.'

'Just interesting? You mean you didn't get to save the universe from crazy terrorists? Arrest Une for causing a threat to world peace? At least rescue a damsel in distress?'

'No, no and what do _you _think?'

'Hmmm. Maybe I should rephrase that last one. I sure as hell hope you didn't rescue any cute guys.'

I unlock our front door and turn to give him a long, soulful look. 'There's only one cute guy I've ever been interested in rescuing. The thing is, he's actually very good at looking after himself, so I don't get to do it very often.'

He makes a cute little noise that sounds like 'pfah' and tries not to look pleased. He is terrible at accepting compliments but occasionally I manage to slip one under his radar. 'So ..you managed to go a whole week without saving the world even once? I'm impressed, babe. I was starting to think that you were developing some kind of addiction, you know. That I'd have to sign you up for World Savers Anonymous.'

'Funny, Maxwell.' It's one of the things I love about him; he's never treated me like some kind of hero, the way most of world wants to. In his company, I can be normal. 'Dublin's a beautiful city, you know. I had a couple of hours off yesterday afternoon, and I got to look around. Maybe we could go there sometime for a few days?'

'That'd be nice.' The smile deepens, and he throws his bag down beside the couch. 'Good to be back home, isn't it?'

'Very good.' Alone, in our own house, I can put my arms around him and hold him the way I've been wanting to for over a week, ever since he left for L4 to visit our friends. 'Don't tell me you got bored with living in the Winner mansion.'

'Nah, I guess not. But it's not really me, all those antiques and oil paintings and stuff. I prefer it here.' I tighten my embrace, just wanting to wrap him in love and comfort and safety for the rest of his life. Our house, which Duo found a few weeks after the war, is a tumbledown building with mildew on the walls, uncertain plumbing and a leaky roof. He chose it because it's on the lakeshore, and an easy drive to the Preventers building. As far as he's concerned, it's totally perfect, the first real home that either of us has ever had.

'I prefer it here too,' I murmur softly. It's perfectly true; all I want is to be with him.

'Sap.'

'Guilty as charged, love. Oh, I have a present for you.'

'Mmm. I can tell.' He rubs himself against me, sliding one hand between my legs. 'All right if I unwrap it now?'

'Not that.' It's an effort to pull away from him, from those sweetly stroking fingers, but I manage, handing him the soft package I'd left on the couch before he has time to feel rejected.

Instead, he laughs up at me. ''Ro, I keep telling you don't have to get me stuff whenever you go away. Once you come back to me, I don't care about anything else.'

'I'll always come back, you know that. And you're always getting me things.' Before Duo, I'd thought people only gave each other gifts on special occasions; birthdays and Christmas, but he is constantly buying me little presents.

If I mention a song I heard on the radio, the CD will turn up in my car the following day. He managed to find a little Asian shop downtown, and they call him whenever they get in a fresh delivery from Japan. When I was unpacking my suitcase in Dublin, I found a little box of my favourite herbal tea tucked into my socks; a tiny sign that he might be mad but he still cared enough to do something like that for me.

'Why don't you open your present, love?'

It's become a something of a ritual for me. Every time I go away, I bring him something back. It's partly because I love giving him things; he complains about it, but I know he secretly enjoys opening my gifts, and partly because it gives me a way to focus on him while we're apart, trying to select the perfect present. And I get just as much pleasure as he does, watching him open what I've chosen for him.

'Oh!' He pulls the paper off carefully, and gasps as the soft length of hand-woven fabric tumbles into his arms. 'That's gorgeous. It'll look great on the end of the bed. I guess we needed another blanket.'

'It's not really a blanket,' I tell him, 'but we can put it on the bed if you like. It's called a throw, apparently. I thought you might like to keep it on the couch, for when you're reading or watching TV. The girl in the shop says that's what they're for.'

'A throw,' he says, committing it to memory. 'Oh, I get it. You throw it over yourself, right?'

'I never thought of that. I suppose so.'

He plumps down on the couch, wrapping the throw around him. It's perfect; the colour is a soft haze of blues and purples, the darkest shade matches his eyes. 'I love it, 'Heero. Thank you.'

'You're welcome.' I bend down to kiss him. 'There's one other thing I got you. An Easter present.'

'Easter?' He looks confused. 'Oh, yeah, it's today, isn't it? I totally forgot. Those kids on the shuttle were talking about Easter bunnies or something. I didn't have a clue what they meant.'

'Baka.' It's become a joke between us, practically an endearment. 'I can't believe you forgot a holiday that's all about chocolate.'

'Well, I guess there was some stuff in the stores before I left, but they don't celebrate it on L4 so I never thought about it.'

'We're going to celebrate it,' I say firmly. I want this so much; for us to have holidays and customs, like normal people. 'Happy Easter, love.'

'Happy Easter,' he echoes, like he's not quite sure what he's saying.

I'd spent almost an hour picking the thing out in a small artisan chocolate shop in Dublin. The egg has 'Duo' written on it in swirls of white chocolate icing, and it's resting in a basket, surrounded by truffles shaped like lambs, chicken and rabbits, wrapped in bright foil.

'That's….great, Heero.' He accepts the basket with a stunned look on his face. 'Uh, what is it, exactly?'

'It's an Easter Egg. It's chocolate. It's a tradition on Earth.'

'It's not going to explode or something, is it? Like that damn cracker you gave me at Christmas?'

'No! Of course not.'

'And it's not going to …try talking to me?'

'No.' In retrospect, my attempts to carry out Earth traditions haven't always been successful. He'd told me during the war that he'd never had a teddy bear, or any sort of stuffed animal so for Valentine's Day, I bought him a polar bear holding a heart in its paws. It was really just for a joke, but it symbolised all the things I wanted to give him; love and laughter and fun.

I'd thought it was cute that the thing said 'I love you' when the heart was pressed in a certain way. Duo had shot the thing to smithereens before it had managed to get two syllables out. Six weeks later, we were still finding bits of white fluff on the carpet.

'This is just chocolate, I promise.' He still looks uncertain, reaching out one tentative finger to trace his name. 'Duo, it's safe. It's not going to blow up and it doesn't make noise.'

'I know. I'm sorry. It's brilliant. Really.' He picks up one of the tiny chocolate lambs, and strokes it. 'I - just - when I was a kid, I remember Sister Helen telling us these stories about Easter. That kids on Earth had all the chocolate they could eat for this one day every year. I'd never tasted chocolate back then; I didn't get why it was so great, except, well, it must have been nice to have as much of anything to eat as you wanted.'

'Oh, love.' The thing that most hurts me when he talks about his childhood is how matter-of-fact he sounds, like he believes it was a perfectly normal way to grow up. I've known him for nearly a year; I think he's mentioned Sister Helen less than a dozen times. He almost never talks about L2, period. I'm practically holding my breath, watching him cradle the little chocolate animal in his palm and terrified to say anything in case he wants to confide something else, when he changes the subject. Duo Maxwell is the only person in the universe who can run and hide while sitting in one place.

'So what else happens at Easter?' His smile is a little too bright, too determined. I hate it when he pretends like this with me but pressing him to talk only ever pushes him away.

'I'm not really sure,' I admit. 'I think people eat chocolate until they feel sick.'

Duo grimaces. 'I don't think I want to do that.' He looks down at the basket of goodies in his lap. 'If the big egg is solid chocolate, how the hell do we eat it? Do we, like, gnaw at it or what?'

'It's just a shell, I think.' I give it a dubious glance. I'd never thought of that. 'We could…break it somehow. Maybe with a knife?'

'No way, 'Ro! You're not sticking a knife into my egg!' He hooks one arm around it protectively. 'There might be an…opening, somewhere,' He slides it out of the cellophane wrapper and examines it, tapping one fingernail against it experimentally. 'Are we really meant to eat it? Maybe it's just an ornament.'

'We're really meant to eat it.' Duo slides the basket on to our coffee table and we both stare at it. Two former Gundam Pilots, outwitted by a chunk of chocolate. We both start laughing at the same time.

'OK, this is really pathetic,' Duo decides. 'I mean, it's chocolate. We're going to eat it, right? We'd better try using a knife. I just….really like the shape. I don't want it to fall apart so soon.'

'We'd better not try using explosives then,' I manage to say it straight-faced and he elbows me in the ribs before sliding a knife out of his boot. 'There we go!' He manages to carve out a small circle with the knifepoint, and hands it to me, breaking off a piece for himself.

'Wow! This is really, really good, 'Ro.' Eyes half-closed, he chews it slowly, giving it time to melt on his tongue. He snaps off a larger part and swipes his tongue across it. _Oh_, _God_... My breath hitches as he licks it again, this time nibbling at one corner, and then glances up at me through his lashes, checking to see if his little chocolate flirtation is having the desired effect on me.

Which of course it is. Duo eating chocolate is unimaginably sexy. Duo doing pretty much anything is unimaginably sexy. This sort of teasing is new for him, for both of us, really. I'm wondering how he wants me to react when he holds out one hand to me. 'You're not eating your chocolate, babe. Don't you want to try some?'

The kiss is all Duo and sweetness and desire and then I feed him another piece, holding it so he has to lick and suck my hand to get at it, his tongue caressing my skin.

He swallows, finally, and slants me of those adorably mischievous grins. 'You know, according to Quat, there's all sorts of fun things you can do with melted chocolate.'

'You and Quatre had a conversation about _cookery_?' I goggle at him and he rolls his eyes.

'Yeah, something like that. I'll give you a …. cookery demonstration later on. I've sort of got plans for now.'

'Oh? What do you want to do?'

'I want you and me to get under this blanket - under this _throw_, I mean - and snuggle on the couch and feed each other chocolates, and then we're going to see if chocolate really is better than sex or maybe we'll see what it's like if you combine chocolate _with _sex and then….'

I never do get to hear the third option. By then, I've toppled him over onto his back and we're busily exploring the first two.


End file.
